Crimson Never Dies: 125th Annual Hunger Games (SYOC)
by GenuineHarajukuDoll
Summary: "You can never cross the ocean, until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore" - Christopher Columbus (Hiatus)
1. Friends With Benefits

_**Phastille Yearling**_

 _ **32 Years Old**_

 _ **(Lennox Wildshire's Assistant)**_

* * *

"Ms. Wildshire?" I called out while rapping my pale knuckles against the door softly. "Coming!" she answered from behind the door. All I heard was swift and frantic movements before she hurriedly unlocked the door to her apartment complex. Clutching onto the opening of her burgundy velveteen robe she leaned against the doorframe and adjusted the messy coils of hair on her head carelessly. Inwardly sighing I blinked down at the smaller woman. I just knew tomorrow evening I was in for a hassle with her monstrous mane, so I took note to get plenty of rest. I had exactly **no** bright side to the situation.

The biggest downfall was combing through it. Have you ever met someone whose hair was just extremely kinky? For no reason? Lennox needed a **qualified** hairstylist to assist her in improving that texture of hers'. I'd be damned if I don't accidentally trap my fingers within those tresses at least **once** tomorrow. It's happened on multiple occasions, so I doubt that it wouldn't happen again. I'd be pleasantly stunned if it did because it'll be less of a burden to deal with.

Lennox stared up at me expectantly. Oh. Yeah. I was delivering these damn papers. I coughed abruptly and bowed my head at Lennox who raised an eyebrow at my actions. "Excuse me, I was just staring at that little chaotic heap you stirred up at the top of your head for **me** tomorrow" I sarcastically apologized swatting Lennox upside the head with the rolled up brochure I held in my unoccupied hand. This vacation to the Northern Lights of the Capitol would most definitely be worth it by the time Lennox was busy with the Games and preoccupied with the posse who'd be stalking her every move after the Games. Much to my self-satisfaction.

I would finally be able to make my getaway and relax at last. Dammit. I was too old for this job. I was Lennox's elder for the sake of God by 11 years. Yet, on the behalf of President Bryson he **demanded** me to be the **secondary** assistant to Lennox. It made me wonder. Did President Bryson say that I'd be her secondary assistant to rile me up and make me **actually** agree to take on being her personal **butler**? I am easily angered however and I already know that from my own knowledge.

Come to think about it, I was the only one who tended to Lennox and ran her errands on a daily basis… I've finally came up with my conclusion. That conniving son of a bitch Bryson was going to get it once I addressed Mrs. Sheen with the issue. For sure he was. Who wouldn't submit to their own mother? Lennox glared up at me and snatched the brochure from me tossing it aside, so I'd meet her gaze. "What?" I asked nonchalantly.

"That's what I should be asking" Lennox countered. Angling her head inside the room she pulled me in with her and ushered me over to the sofa to sit beside her. I caught sight of a motionless figure lying in her bed unclothed with only a plain white linen sheet flung over their body. Save for the hair I could easily recognize the figure as Bryson. "So, about last night?" I smirked immaturely with a raise of my eyebrow. Lennox rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. "What about it?" she said downing a duo of aspirin in one go followed thereafter by a glass of faucet water.

"Nothing" I replied waving off the situation at the simple thought of it. This wasn't the first time I've tried to pry the details from Lennox. I guess she wasn't comfortable with enlightening others of her relationship. I don't know if you'd even describe President Bryson and Lennox's connection as a relationship. Scratch that, let me substitute **relationship** for **"Friends with Benefits."** Better. At that moment, Bryson decided to stir himself awake. Squinting at me from across the room he attempted to make out what was going on by looking at Lennox anxiously.

"Bryson, it's only Phastille" Lennox explained. I waved at him with a simple smile drawing my emerald eyes from Lennox to him. She gestured Bryson over. Complying, he wrapped a nearby towel around his lower waist and gave me a not so sly grin which resulted in Lennox punching him in the stomach as soon as he approached us. The impact sounded hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. Bryson clutched his abdomen and crouched over in obvious pain. It was normal behavior between the pair to me. I often saw the two violently interacting after their nightly activities and it could concern me the least.

Say, possibly I can get Lennox to punish Bryson whenever he ticks me off. I'll keep that in mind also. I'm sure it'll be her pleasure to do so. It was a pinch bit of weird because Bryson was the President and here he is currently getting abused by the Head Gamemaker. Wasn't my business though. Bryson may look stronger, but he is the weakest between them. I actually witnessed Lennox lift over 50 pounds despite her small structure at the Training Center. I used to be her District Advisor during the 122nd Hunger Games nearly 4 years ago.

"Lennox, I've came here to hand you these papers by Desiree's order. She wants you to review her sketches of the arena and for the hell of it she even gave you a mini questionnaire, but once again don't complain to me, it was all Desiree."

Lennox rolled her eyes and snatched the papers from me and immediately began to scan through it alongside Bryson who was peering over Lennox's shoulder nosily. I ran a hand through my straightened turquoise tresses and tugged strands backwards in the process eyeing the two who shared twin expressions of interest. Bryson slid an arm across Lennox's shoulder who seemed too absorbed within the documents. I thought they'd be adorable together, but whenever I brought up the topic to Lennox she'd say I was trying to **insinuate** things which'll most likely **never** happen. "Lennox?" Bryson spoke. Lennox hardly even took a glance at Bryson, but simply nodded at him as a signal to continue.

Bryson had a smirk plastered on his face. Winking at me playfully much to my giggles he planted a small smooch on Lennox's cheek much to her surprise and embraced her from behind despite the sofa being a barrier. I resisted the urge to squeal like the hopeless romantic I am and just gasped at his romantic gestures toward Lennox. It was just so cute. I loved catching those two in moments like this. Well, Bryson always started it, but it was notable that Lennox secretly enjoyed it that made me exceptionally happy because I could tease her about it later. Of course, Lennox would usually deny it, but it was useful towards my own humor.

"Lennox, what'd you say if I'd propose to you one day?" Bryson inquisitively questioned the auburn haired woman.

"I'd say you charming piece of shit, **no**. What the hell type of question is that?" Lennox replied swiping her cheek repeatedly to rid herself of Bryson's kiss.

"Just something that you'll take into consideration one day" Bryson responded while waving Lennox off as he made his way into the kitchen. Not before squeezing her shoulders and brushing his thin lips across her collarbone.

It was obvious that he was trying to not let her answer waver his emotions. I felt sorry for Bryson. No wonder the poor man drunk himself to a waste. He was always rejected. If only Lennox knew how much they were similar to each other. Sure, Bryson grew up in the Capitol, but that doesn't exactly tell his backstory before fame as our beloved President. I nudged Lennox in the side and scowled at her disapprovingly.

"What?" she calmly ordered.

"Give him a chance!" I pleaded Lennox.

Bryson sat on the edge of the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of vodka which was conveniently placed beside him. "It's alright" he sighed drearily with half-lidded eyes. Boy, wasn't it ever evident that he had trouble concealing his emotions.

Lennox finally placed the papers neatly in her lap with a sigh and directed her attention towards the television in front of her. A ballet performance was on. Boring. "Well, I should be leaving" I excused myself with an apologetic bow directed more towards Bryson than Lennox.

"Before I leave I want to present you with something, President Bryson" I announced leaving the room and entering the empty hallway.

Bryson lazily slouched off the counter and met me near the living room door. Curiosity danced in his dark orbs as he stood near the outside of the door awaiting me. I couldn't resist my smile and handed him a color scheme chart much to his confusion, but he took it anyway. What a doll? "Madam Yearling…" Bryson started before I shushed him with a low hum.

"Lennox would be pissed that I gave you this, but this is her color scheme for tomorrow and I want you to pick out a matching outfit for the evening at the interview with Gavel Nickelson."

Bryson gave me a reassuring smile as he declined my offer.

"No thank you Madam Yearling. I want to impress Lennox on my own and I'll hopefully succeed soon enough. I'll definitely inform you once we are involved in an actual relationship though. For now, I think I'll stay in this little connection which revolves around sex. Eventually, you'll have my word that I'm marrying her. Imagine it, Lennox Sheen. Besides, I'm not a quitter."

It's promising. One thing is that Bryson has guts and whenever he makes a promise he'll be up to it and I know he doesn't play about Lennox either. She's his only hope for the better. I embraced Bryson and pecked him lightly on either cheek affectionately.

"Good luck Bryson!" I said as I finally departed from the young man.

That'll be one hell of a proposal, but it'll be beneficial once Bryson is actually effective in his plan. I mean, it'll be worth it and be one hell of a wakeup call for the entirety of Panem. They've been "Friends with Benefits" for about 3 years now, so the question is…

Why not?

* * *

 _~Alright. Here's the application! You all already know the rules, but if you don't I'll quickly list them to all of the following beginners that may have stumbled upon this Fanfic. I'd also advise the majority to read this because I have one "specific" rule that applies to everyone that you_ _ **MUST**_ _follow._

 _No Mary-Sue's nor Gary-Stu's. Note to self: The Hunger Games are supposed to realistic and not everyone is slim and athletic. Some Careers may even be a bit bulky with a pinch of chub._

 _I want a variety of all genders from each District and not just all Careers. Note to self: There are outer districts!_

 _Doesn't everyone need a sob story to be accepted? Everyone doesn't have to have absent parents nor deceased parents. It's overly typical within the Hunger Games Archive. It's irritating and very, very tiresome._

 _I_ _ **DO NOT**_ _want common celebrities as a "Face Claim"._

 _To assure me that you have read this I want you to label your heading of the Private Message as "Annual 125_ _th_ _Hunger Games" besides your tribute District number and Face Claim._

 _ **Example:**_ _Annual 125_ _th_ _Hunger Games, District 10, Alissa Violet_

 _ **Application**_

 _Name:_

 _Age:_

 _District:_

 _Alternative District:_

 _Gender:_

 _Face Claim:_

 _Personality (Detailed):_

 _Backstory:_

 _Strengths:_

 _Weaknesses:_

 _Likes:_

 _Dislikes:_

 _Possible Training Score:_

 _Weapon(s):_

 _Interview Angle:_

 _Personal Views on the Capitol:_

 _Quotes:_

 _Interview Outfit:_

 _Reaping Outfit:_

 _Reaped or Volunteered:_

 _Reaction to Being Reaped:_

 _Reason to Volunteer:_

 _Friend(s): (Be descriptive! I want more than just a name. I want their entire relationship and personality. Appearance.)_

 _Family: (Be descriptive! I want more than just a name. I want their entire relationship and personality. Appearance.)_


	2. Tease

_**Lennox Wildshire's P.O.V**_

 _ **21 Years Old**_

 _ **(Head Gamemaker of the 125t**_ _ **h**_ _ **Annual Hunger Games)**_

* * *

"Ms. Wildshire, lift your head" Haddire instructed me as he finally finished applying my signature red lipstick. It looked as if my lips were literally bleeding, but it was expectable as he did smear on about 12 applications of said lipstick. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror and couldn't help the smirk that threatened to break out from the corners of my mouth. If I may say so for myself, Haddire is quite crafty with the make-up brush for a heterosexual male. I actually find that amusing because once Phastille informed me that Haddire was a male I erupted into fits of skeptical giggles. Yeah, it was just rare to me. As a child, I grew up in District 7 and I hardly saw anything strange with the exception of those cursed Peacekeepers who'd monitor us on a daily basis as if we were slaves.

Yet again, it's not very common when you don't see something unusual in the Capitol. Haddire is fairly known around the Capitol and my secondary assistant, Phastille Yearling recommended him to me. Of course, like any other typical Capitolite he'd be honored. Nothing different. Haddire didn't even hesitate to respond to my invitation. So, here I was getting prepared for an interview beside the President and the Master of Ceremonies, Gavel Nickelson. I swigged down the remains of whiskey in my glass as Haddire tugged the zipper to my crimson, bodice gown upward.

It easily slid up with no problem. Much to my astonishment because I haven't exactly been on my daily health regimen lately. I recall last night that I were gulping down fruit tarts and fruit punch which is a risky, calorie inducing combination. Although, I must admit that it was truly delectable towards my taste buds of course. Capitolites have far richer tastes than me. I couldn't even stomach bull testes if they were the **last** delicacy on earth.

I can actually still feel the taste linger on the tip of my tongue as I reminisce. Shuddering from the memory mentally I resisted the urge to run my fingers throughout my tresses which were in roller sets at the moment, I barely stopped my movement midway. I earned myself a simultaneous glare from Haddire and Phastille as they realized what I was just about to do.

"Hey darling!" chirped President Bryson as he sauntered into the room gracelessly with a half empty bottle of wine in one hand.

"That's cute. You two are matching for the evening" Phastille smiled.

"Shit!" I cursed under my breath miserably immediately biting down on my writhing tongue remorsefully as another glare was sent my way from Phastille. That dick hadn't no right to invade my privacy especially while I'm in the comfort of my own dressing room. I wouldn't disturb his peace by barging in uninvited. He landed onto a cushioned chair in the corner with a thud.

I rolled my hazel green orbs and straightened my mouth into a prominent frown. "What's wrong?" Phastille hissed through clenched teeth while raising a curious and obviously dyed turquoise eyebrow. Currently, Phastille was unclamping the roller sets from my hair. Loose and curly strands of auburn fell towards my face and framed it softly. I shrugged the situation off, but the truth is. I can't stand that shit head of a President. He sickened me and he was a sorry excuse for a President. The pathetic chain-smoker was not only a pervert, but an alcoholic. Bryson gave me a lopsided grin and shot me a thumbs up gesture.

I snorted. "Do you have anything better to do than pester me before the interview?" I monotonously asked while masking my anger as Bryson eyed me up and down with a pleasant smile stretched across his masculine features. He shook his head "no" and waved Phastille off who was not occupied since she was complete with my hair. I nearly **begged** Phastille to stay, but all she did was mouth a lame "sorry" and scurry off due to Bryson's demand followed shortly after by Haddire who bowed his head and excused himself apologetically. "What the hell, Bryson?!" I complained. "What?" Bryson questioned me while feigning hurt. Straightening his posture he braced himself against the arms of the chair he sat in.

"Bryson" I said as politely as possible at the moment. "You're just irritating me. Greatly" I explained with a hint of exasperation slathered in my tone. Bryson stumbled towards me and nearly tripped over his own foot. I collapsed onto the carpeted floor in exhaustion and spun around on my rear to face the alcoholic. I caught a whiff of nicotine as Bryson slid past to sit beside me on the floor. He pulled out a packet of cigars from his vest pocket and retrieved one from the package with a nonchalant expression. "Want one?" he offered.

Seriously? I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time today. "I don't smoke, dumbass!" I seethed knocking the cigar from his fingers. Bryson defensively raised his hands and smirked coolly. "My bad, Princess" he taunted while igniting his cancer stick in the process. I felt my lip begin to twitch into a smile of some sorts. It didn't feel right. Somewhat.

"Are you ready for this interview?" Bryson flicked the cigar butt to the wastebasket, but it hardly even made it.

I nodded my head assuredly. Bryson inhaled on his cigar and steadily rocked back and forth. "You need to relax" he commented aloud idly. Smoke deposited from his mouth as he spoke. Only the mind of a stoner would believe so. I believed myself to be relaxed, but after winning the 122nd Annual Hunger Games I've believed I lost myself. My youngest and only sister, Willow Wildshire said so before her untimely death last year. I still despise the Capitol because before my sudden wealth after winning this Hunger Games bullshit Willow was just as healthy as usual and suddenly she became unusually ill.

It was impossible for her to contract something from District 7 while I was away on the Annual Victor Tour. It makes me suspicious because I hardly had the opportunity to even interact with Willow before she was diagnosed with pneumonia. It pained me to even think about it. Muffled and strangled cries escaped my throat. I tried to choke back the cries of pain, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I haven't expressed myself in years since I've been in this hellhole. Bryson glanced at me from the side of his eye and exhaled heavily. "Lennox?"

My fingers trembled as I wept into my hands silently. "Dammit!" I cursed venomously. Furiously wiping tears from my face I gritted my teeth. "Lennox?" Bryson grasped my hands into his bigger ones and gazed up at me as I held my head down. It was so unpredictable that I nearly lost my composure. "Don't even bother Bryson. It doesn't involve you" I murmured wiping tears away from my face with my bare wrist. Bryson furrowed his brows and attempted to make out what seemed to be a reassuring smile. "Lennox, what's wrong?"

His coffee brown eyes were actually sincere for once and not rough. "President Bryson…" I started. "Just call me Bryson" he interjected with a wave of his hand. He sure is full of surprises. I took a sharp intake of breath and guided my hands towards my lap. My hand enclosed over a Sterling Silver locket which dangled from my wrist mimicking a bracelet. "I just realized something that I've should've known before. I was a complete idiot for being so absorbed within my emotions that I didn't take the time to even place the puzzle pieces together" I explained dully as I looked on blankly at the clock placed directly above my mirror across the room.

Bryson merely extended his lower lip and hummed to himself thoughtfully. "Well darling, one word of advice. Patience. Is. The. Key." I skeptically observed Bryson who was sniffing the bottle of whiskey on my dressing table curiously. Counting his final words on my fingers I contorted my face in confusion.

"That's four words dumbass."

Bryson unfazed just continued sniffing the liquor and voluntarily poured himself a glass. Swallowing the drink in one sip he grimaced at the bitter taste and lifted his index finger to silence me before I could comment. "Actually" he began with a hiccup followed shortly after, "That was one word, Princess. My actual response was just **patience**."

"You're acting like it was supposed to be obvious or something you piece of shit" I retorted sarcastically.

Bryson placed his head on my shoulder. Long, chestnut brown locks coated my bare shoulder. My skin tickling from the contact. I suddenly regretted choosing crimson as my signature color. The bastard must've gotten excited earlier because of my color choice! I swatted Bryson upside the head and shoved him off my shoulder. Clutching the back of his head he was finally speechless for once and gave me an amused look.

"Why?" he mouthed to me quietly. "C'mon, don't play dumb now you piece of shit. It's apparent why you were giggling earlier when I revealed my dress to you. You must've came up with an idea that I decided on this gown due to the striking resemblance it shares with you suit and believe me when I say this. This?" I referred to my outfit with a simple hand gesture. "Was unintentional" I elaborated with accusation seeping in my tone.

"Oh" Bryson chuckled. Sheepishly looking over at me he scanned me with a sly blush creeping up his cheeks which nearly matched his bowtie in comparison. "Hey! It isn't my fault that you're hooked! Maybe our little one-night stand yesterday was more than what you thought" he defensively argued with a smirk for like the hundredth time today. I gagged childishly. "Get your life Bryson. Literally" I snapped. Bryson then chose that moment to scoot closer to me than what was necessary.

I stared up into his coffee depths as he cupped my face. I tried my hardest to not recoil from the scent of liquor and nicotine on his breath, but he was most definitely stronger than what he appeared to be. I recall learning that yesterday night after our encounter at the bar. Even drunk, he was still capable of holding his own. "Bryson, what're you doing?" I thoughtlessly asked. Bryson crooked his neck so that now we were eye level. I felt small underneath his shadow. It was humiliating.

"Something that'll make you reconsider what I said yesterday" he answered. Having not any moment to spare he captured my lips into an enthralling kiss. It was unbelievable. I could've sworn my eyes nearly popped out of their respective sockets. His fingers tangled throughout my hair as he deepened the kiss by pressing his lips down further onto mine. It'd be useless to battle for dominance when Bryson was clearly in control. I closed my eyes blearily and traced my fingers across his solid chest which was clothed by a buttoned vest made from delicate materials.

It was tempting to take Bryson then and there, but I had to remind myself that I was a lady. Bryson finally departed away from me slowly panting and hoisted himself up. What a tease? "I'll be awaiting you on stage in about…" he paused and squinted at his wristwatch. "10 minutes" Bryson finished with a satisfied smile as he finally exited the room.

"That charming piece of shit," I stated to myself in the midst of my thought process. Brushing the tips of my fingers across my lips a small grin broke out from the corners of my mouth.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Well, I hope my viewers are satisfied with this chapter! If not… Who the hell cares? One more prologue after this and we'll be right into the reaping chapters. Take note that since I have 24 tributes I'll only have 12 reaping chapters, 12 train rides, and 12 chariots. The interview chapters will be at random and I'll only interview 12. 1 from each District (Just for the hell of introducing our Master of Ceremonies, Gavel Nickelson). Believe me, everyone will at least have more than 1 point of view, so don't get your panties (nor boxers!) in a twist._


	3. Mesmerized

_**Bryson Sheen's P.O.V**_

 _ **28 Years Old**_

 _ **(President of Panem)**_

* * *

"To say the least, I'm impressed."

Lennox glared venomously at me and continued to admire the arena we stood in. "This… masterpiece took precise precisions! It's much more than just a petty **impressive**. It's… perfect!"

I glanced at Lennox from the corner of my eye and slyly smiled at her expression. The overwhelming smile which decorated her full and rosy lips. The gleam in her eyes. It was all too impeccable. The arena itself reflected off of her. Indescribable. It's almost impossible to not note the comparison. A snicker brushed past my lips which caused Lennox to curiously scan me.

"What're you laughing about back there?" she asked with a slump of her shoulders before swirling around on her heel making her dark overcoat rotate with her as she spun to examine me.

"Nothing," I lied with a shrug. Lennox squinted at me and came forward disturbingly close.

"What? I just thought that the artificial rain was too much. I'd suggest you to make the touch more realistic, rain is light to the touch once it first hits you and as the pressure increases the impact becomes firmer, it'll feel like it's prickling your skin. Rain also has an odor once it connects with the grass. Enhance your sensory representations because once rain hits grass you are bound to smell dew. Anyone knows that," I rambled sheepishly.

Lennox sighed dramatically and poked me in the abdomen lightly. "I mean, don't you understand the theme?"

"Well, it's a bit complicated, but I suppose. I'm for sure the viewers will love it though!" I reassured her to prevent that ageless smile from diminishing. I loved that signature from her. It was rare for others to see Lennox smile and I felt special because I saw that smile more often than others. Usually, she'd give anyone else her deadpan expression.

"Hey, dipshit. I appreciate the constructive criticism and all, but it's quite useless," Lennox whined with a pout.

"You're a nuisance."

"What about you? Piece of shit."

"What is that, my nickname? Every time you address me, you partake in adding the word **shit** to the ending."

Lennox erupted into a loud yet absurd fit of laughter which was amusing. I was seconds from mocking her, but suggested it was a bad idea once I nearly opened my mouth.

"Did I tickle you or something?"

"N-no! It's just the way you said **shit.** Your accent fucked it up."

"Talk about you. You're a woman who curses like a sailor." I retorted defensively.

Lennox swept past me and trudged her feet along the mucky, opaque water she stood in. Her combat boots getting grimy as she stood knee deep in the gunky stuff.

I had the decency to stay put on the crumbled and arid ledge which was above the small creek. Lennox went further and plucked a velvet blackberry from the crooked tree which was bent down over the creek. It nearly shadowed Lennox's petite and feminine build.

She tossed me the berry and smirked. "Those are killer," she announced aloud just before I nearly enclosed my mouth over my fingers which held the poisonous berry.

"Thanks for the close warning." I grumbled in annoyance under my breath.

"You're welcome, my friend," she hummed playfully as she made an exuberant hand gesture towards me.

"So, what exactly are your intentions for this year's Quarter Quell?"

Lennox's smirk widened as she stood abroad a wooden plank animatedly with her chin lifted towards the cerulean sky tinted with lavender.

"Alright. Decidedly, I just want 24 tributes."

"Typical within the Capitol," I muttered under my breath, but not as slyly as I thought I would.

Lennox shot a death glare my way and made a cutthroat signal. I immediately clamped my mouth shut. "The twist? You, my friend. President Bryson. Will be randomly drawing a variety of genders from each District. No District will be left behind with the exception of their being a possibility that let's say, District 2 may have about 3 tributes since their population is the highest within Panem and District 11 may have 1 tribute since their population is the lowest within Panem. The order is by population and I swear to god, Bryson if you don't select a District 7 tribute you'll be a goner."

"I want you to remember that District 7 is my family" she advised me.

I swallowed dryly and closed my eyes to avoid eye contact with Lennox. Paling at the fact that my **mistress** just **threatened** me. Poor, defenseless little ole' me. Simply nodding my head I motioned her to carry on. Trying to wave off the fact that I was just **threatened**. Smiling pleasantly she adjusted her collar and cleared her throat preparing to speak again.

"Apparently, the odds aren't in anyone's favor."

"Pun intended?" I inquired humorously crossing my arms across my chest as I regained my pride as not only President, but a male.

Lennox rolled her eyes and gave me the middle finger. How mature? "I want the Capitolites to recognize me for my true ability as Head Gamemaker this year and many more to come."

Lennox paced the plank while she gave me her speech. Her tone was stern and serious. I believe she actually does have a knack for bloodshed being a former tribute who somehow managed to be affiliated with the Career Alliance during the 122nd Games. On the first day of the Games she slaughtered two Careers that night mercilessly and easily advanced forward with her sly tactics.

Watching the games, I admit that my bets were on the District 2 female, Tsarina Rezor not Lennox. Lennox herself killed Tsarina with a machete in the Final 3 despite Tsarina nearly dislocating Lennox's jaw in one punch. It's almost intimidating how Lennox befriended Tsarina just as quick as she killed her in the Final 3. Lennox didn't even hesitate to stab Tsarina in the back. Literally.

The way the words flew freely from her mouth and rang throughout the hollow and nearly vacant arena. It was indeed threatening. Lennox captured my stare and signaled me forward. God help me please. Lord knew what could possibly be in that water, but I complied anyway and made my way across to her. Lennox grasped onto my hand and enveloped it in her hand. Almost tenderly. Tugging me upward to pull me onto a fertilized grassland beside her.

I was awestruck. The view was exceptional. I hiked through the pebble trail and studied the findings I've came across. Settling my eyes on a specific sight I inhaled sharply. "Lennox…" I started.

"Don't."

I tossed my overcoat off and allowed it to settle atop a nearby meadow. The cool air swarming around me all so suddenly. Chills wandered up my spine. Shivering to the naked eye I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth together.

I coarsely began to cough repeatedly and clutched onto my chest as a sudden surge of pain surfaced. Coughing my bodily fluids into the handkerchief in my breast pocket I swiped the remainder of blood off my lower lip with my thumb grimacing at the dark shade. It wasn't red for sure. The symptoms were worsening every day. Hopefully, Lennox didn't notice, but it was obvious that she spared me a glance. I rolled up my shirt sleeves carefully, adjusting the delicate fabric against my upper forearms. Striding forward I came closer to a portrait engraved into the ground surrounded by a variety of flowers.

It was a portrait of a signature Mockingjay smeared with matte black chalk across the entire base and painted a golden color at the base of the beak leading to the talons. I crouched down and ran a calloused hand across the smooth surface of the portrait. "You don't understand Lennox. I guess you don't take much from advice, eh?" I finally resumed my usual standing position. "The Capitol does not want to see this representation of betrayal, Lennox! You can't. You'll be punished-" I snapped before getting suddenly hushed by Lennox's hard stare.

"By who? This represents my creativity! Hell what the Capitol thinks!" Lennox defensively retorted.

Lennox couldn't possibly understand the feelings I harbored for her. Getting turned down so many times and I continuously chased after her? She must think I'm gullible which I am not. She fails to realize that I actually care for her. Hell, she doesn't even believe me although I've expressed myself to her so many times, but I know deep down that she returns those same feelings. Lennox couldn't possibly admit that she cared for me emotionally, but her actions spoke much louder than her words.

Her creativity represents rebellion. It'll ignite fires and erupt destruction within many Districts across Panem and Lennox knew that. She was aiming for a rebellion. Her suspicions are growing due to the curiosity of how Willow Wildshire died and she wants to punish us. I haven't anything to do with Willow, but I know Lennox didn't trust me nor any portion of the Capitol since she won the 52nd Huger Games and began to live here. I couldn't possibly dare hurt Lennox even though she could possibly ruin my reign as President. I'd have to sacrifice myself rather than to get her penalized.

It'd hurt far too much. I have to find a way to prevent this awaiting ruin which'll be bound to happen in a matter of weeks.

I grasped Lennox by the shoulders firmly and stared down at her. Lennox returned the stare. I couldn't help to smirk at how she couldn't conceal her shock at my sudden actions. "B-Bryson?!" she stammered warily while eyeing me in suspicion. Sighing, I finally decided to release Lennox cautiously. Preparing myself for her assault I slackened my tense stance. Wait. No reaction.

She is remarkably unpredictable. Lennox stared up at me emotionlessly studying my face. "Bryson. Give me a chance" Lennox plead. "I'm for sure I can make this work!" she continued with pleading eyes and a suggestive pout. Lennox was a devious woman, but I couldn't deny that I actually liked it. I always settled towards women like that for some unknown reason. They always captured my interests.

My father, Caspian was quite the player. Considering the fact that he has a record of being married approximately 6 times throughout the Capitol and he was filed for divorce during **every** marriage due to infidelity. It isn't something to be proud of, but it's notable within me and my younger brother, Detrick genetics. My mother, Lotus doesn't like to bother me much because so and she considers me a "bad influence" and that I am a "playboy" just like my father. What can I possibly say? At the age of 16 I got married to a woman my father arranged me to wed. She was older than me by 12 years at 28.

Most sophisticated and manipulative individual I've ever met. Fiery red hair and all. At that age I was still innocent and never knew of sexual intimacy, but my father told me it'd be for "early experience," despite my protests. My mother scolded me for following through and gave my father full custody over me after the divorce. I haven't seen my mother in a **couple** of years and I admit that I truly miss her. Lennox reminds me of my mother to be honest. That's why I'm so determined to marry her.

The woman I married was named, Eveline Gaiden. She was a professional makeup artist who developed an interest in me as I was a usual customer at her makeup corporation. I was a child then. My father took note that I was mesmerized with her and whenever I got prepared for a special occasion I'd usually choose her to prep me personally. I remember sneaking out at night just to meet her because after my first experience I was fascinated and wanted to learn more about this sexual intimacy. Eveline was my mentor and I was her student during the nighttime and an occasional morning whenever my father was gone. The wedding was arranged to happen when I was 16. It was tempting to not prepare myself for the long haul of marriage.

Lennox never really cared for my past life except for meeting my father who'd tell her a variety of stories which were actually in reality quite fictional. For instance, I've never cuddled up to my older sister, Justice for comfort. Lennox bought it though and instantly felt the need to baby me sometimes at the most random moments. I found it adorable at how unaware Lennox was to her gullible nature at times. The woman believed I was feeding her rubbish whenever I called her "gullible" or she'd react violently. Finally giving into Lennox's expression I inwardly groaned in annoyance and brushed the situation at hand off with a wave. Lennox clasped her hands together and gasped.

"I thought I'd be standing there for hours waiting on a response!" she respired imitating breathlessness. Clutching onto her chest happily she reached up and cupped my face. Planting a small peck on my cheek she pulled back lightly with a wide grin spread across her features.

"God, Bryson. I don't know what to say, but thank you" she said in a low voice before crushing me into a warm embrace.

I smiled at Lennox and drew in a sharp breath. Hell. If I'm not crazy, I don't know what I am. I'll say…

Mesmerized.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Check Chapter 4 out to submit because I'm still in need of Tributes. Thank you._


	4. Tribute List (Updated)

_**~Tribute List**_

 _District 1:_

Male: Applause Walden (18)

Female: Shimmer Milani (17)

 _District 2:_

Male: Acanthus Stearns (18)

Female: Aldra York (16)

 _District 3:_

Male: Allo Patton (18)

Female: Emily Lustellar (13)

 _District 4:_

Male: Riley Hughes (17)

Female: Aster Hughes (17)

 _District 5:_

Male:

Female: Mavis LePonte (12)

 _District 6:_

Male:

Female: Finnly Lane Thomas (17)

 _District 7:_

Male:

Female: Adelaide Byrd (15)

 _District 8:_

Male:

Female: Monroe Waters (17)

 _District 9:_

Male: Sedgewick Hamilton (18)

Female: Aria Hilley (13)

 _District 10:_

Male: Bryam Sarkis (16)

Female: Miriam Park (12)

 _District 11:_

Male: Ember Parley (18)

Female: Sage Cyrus (16)

 _District 12:_

Male: Wolf Killian (16)

Female: Emory Curtis (16)

* * *

~ ** _Author's Note: Nearly full! Damn there._**


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